


Out of Sight

by Gyptian



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Epic, F/M, M/M, Post-Iron Man 3, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gyptian/pseuds/Gyptian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, Good King Odin did look upon Midgard and saw it poised on the brink of self-destruction. In his benevolence, he stayed their hand and thereafter, a fragile peace descended over the Nine Realms until Mad Titan Thanos returned from exile to make war. </p><p>Tony Stark, as he was wont to do, had reinvented himself in a cave beneath a small hill in Montana.</p><p>This is the story of an Odin who wasn't Odin. Of Thor. Of Iron Man, who isn't. Of mortal Jane Foster, who won't be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gods Come Down and Mortals Tremble

**Author's Note:**

> This is a long piece of fiction. There will be plot. It does not flow from the movies, so much as explore the shift in roles at the ends of those movies. It is being rewritten post-Age of Ultron, to better fit phase 3. As well as the SNAFU that's the 4,800 expensive, ill-guarded nuclear warheads in America.

_**BBC Galaxy, 2015** _

 

“... almost exactly one year after the last Nuclear Security Summit, it seems we are to surrender any and all things nuclear on Earth, whether we want it or not. And it isn't America in charge. Daniel, can you tell us more?”

 

“Of course, Kim. We're standing on the stairs to the Convention Dome, a temporary hall, more of a tent, that was hastily erected. On this site stood Russia's main stash of nuclear weaponry. It was _flattened_. It's protected now by a sort of... force field. We tested it and, well, you can only get in, not out. And, what's more... we're in Siberia and it's bitterly cold just inches from my hand. The poor cameraman is shivering, while I'm standing here in my _jumper._ ”

 

“Yes Daniel, we can see, your image is a bit shaky, there, but what's happening _inside_?”

 

“Well, Kim, the answer is, we just don't know. What we _do_ know is that it all started with Russia's declaration that they were launching nuclear rockets. That, in itself, was triggered by incursions the Americans staged across the Bering Strait.” 

 

“Well then, for the viewers just tuning in, can you give us a short recap of what's happened so far?”

 

“Yes...A-a delegation of Asgardians, led by King Odin himself, materialised beneath a giant aurora, ten hours ago, just behind me. They set off what looked like a controlled black hole, on what footage we managed to obtain. A whole building, just brimming with nuclear missiles, warheads, enough to destroy life on Earth twice over, _disappeared._ They summoned the leaders of all countries that have any sort of nuclear weapons or plants. Most have arrived and went inside. Those leaders are coming out, one by one, mind, to make a declaration they will disarm, only to return inside. We don't know what's making them do this... It's remarkable.”

 

“Our own prime minister's in there as well, isn't that right?”

 

“Yes. It seems our queen escaped the summons by virtue of age. Other European royals were not so lucky. He, ah, hasn't come out yet. The declarations seem to be made in random order. But, ah, if it goes like all the others, he'll be telling us we're handing our submarines over to these... beings.”

 

“Thank you Daniel, for clarifying that. Now, back to our correspondents in capital cities around the world, because there has been an outcry against the Asgardians' actions, especially in the United States. Mixed reactions so far in Europe and the Middle East. Clara, what's your read on Asia?”

 

“Well, Kim, China seems to be falling in line with Russia and America, shock, horror, a call to arms, even. North Korea has shut its borders entirely and Kim Jung Un has refused the summons...”

 

~'~

 

JARVIS shut off the transmission. “I believe that covers the relevant points, Sir.”

 

“Damn,” Tony Stark muttered.

 

“Sir?” JARVIS let the screen retract, powering down the last of Tony Stark's brand new Rocky Mountains lair. Middle of nowhere, Colorado.

 

“They're hijacking my clean energy revolution. I was going to change the world from my armchair.”

 

“I believe the rest of humanity has other worries, Sir,” JARVIS switched to whispering through the implant glued to Tony Stark's cheekbone. Subvocalisation, here we come.

 

Tony Stark grabbed his jacket and mentally directed his boots to put themselves on his feet. His latest armour had already packed itself in a slim leather-like suitcase. Magic resistant. “Humanity does not think like _me_.”

 

“True, sir, but,” JARVIS whispered against his skull, “you don't even  _have_ an armchair.”

 

“Well, it woulda been boring anyway. Let's go mess with the gods.” Tony Stark turned up the music and jettisoned himself in the direction of Russia. “Initiate Prometheus Protocol.”

 


	2. President Calling

Like the rest of the world, Tony Stark had little warning, though he had more than most, since he got a call hours before it hit the news. “Not now, JARVIS. Need to finish the Skrull Lullaby.”

“It's a remotely activated chemical dispersal unit, Sir. An alien stun grenade. It bears very little resemblance to a song,” the artificial intelligence complained to its creator, even as it held up the results of the latest simulations.

“Keep working on that Stark Snark, JARVIS old boy, oooh, good one. I have to remember that.” Tony wiped his fingers on a rag, even though he had been wirelessly directing nanotechnology to get the wiring right. Some habits dies hard. “That should do it. Make lots of those.”

“Will do, Sir. You have message from Madame President.”

He considered that while he made himself a sandwich in the kitchenette, well, kitchen. He was bad at doing anything small, even while lying low. “For Tony Stark or Iron Man?”

“Both, Sir. She extends a polite invitation to Tony Stark, asking for discreet advice on a highly classified matter. An a plea for help to Iron Man.” When Tony quit the workshop entirely for his office, he switched to the communicator implant. Thick metal doors slid closed behind him on his way out.

Tony grumbled under his breath. “I wanna ignore that...” He plunked down on the couch that faced his link to the outside world, an empty desk with built-in projectors, rotated sore shoulders. Stared at the ceiling.

JARVIS let him rest for a few minutes, but then said, “She is bypassing SHIELD and contacting you directly, Sir, against protocol. And she included a short audio clip you might find persuasive.”

Tony groaned. “Alright, so I'm flattered. Let's hear it.”

The alto of a confident woman came on. “Mr. Stark, Iron Man, I need you. We are at war, and it seems America has met its match. We have Odysseus on our side, and we are begging for your wisdom. Please, help. For the sake of Earth.”

A hand over his face did not bring him relief. “I've been locked up too long. What's she referring to, JARVIS?” He crossed his eyes when the AI put the entire briefing packet, annotated, straight into his brain. “God, send it in smaller packages, next time!”

“Sorry, Sir, I forget.”

“No you don't. This is revenge, isn't it, for me confusing you with all my human stuff way back when.”

“I will neither confirm nor deny.”

“Gotcha.” Tony pealed back the dense layers of information. “Oh...” He straightened up. “Put her on.” A frowning woman in suit appeared in a projected square, flags in the background. “My favourite grandma!” Tony yelled, so she promptly rolled her eyes. “How are the first, second and third dogs?”

“Just fine, Mr. Stark.” She took a deep breath. “Thank you for returning my call.” She steepled her hands. She'd been elected for being a serious, stable woman that'd convinced everyone she was capable of leading America out of the chaos that erupted after the president before her had been assassinated. Madame Rosaline Piquot looked far older now than at any point during her term. “Have you reviewed the information I sent you?”

“Yeah, Asgard just half-disarmed the country that you were going to go to war with. Problem solved, right?” Tony put his feet on the table, his arms wide. Oh, he liked her better than most politicians, but he didn't like politicians much in general. They brought out his inner asshole.

“That's... not it, Stark. Not all of it, although the implications alone, that they can just _do_ that... No. That was the first step. Now they've summoned us.”

“Who?” He put his feet back on the floor.

“All of us.” She put her hands on the desk.

“Who?” He stood up, pointed at her.

“Anyone with nuclear weapons, Stark, haven't you gotten a call? In fact, anyone with anything nuclear. If you can build a dirty bomb, you've got an Asgardian invite to attend them, now, or be beheaded. Like we're their subjects.” She'd stood up as well, fists up, teeth clenched, fury proverbially rising in flames over her head.

Like a flash fire, the aggression disappeared as soon as it came. She sagged back down, hand now up in salt-and-pepper hair, hooded grey eyes on Tony. “I don't know what to do. You're my last hope, because our armed forces absolutely aren't prepared to end this in any way other than bloodshed, and no one wants to go up against gods.” She extended her hands in supplication, and Tony was jarred by the image of a President, in her seat of power, expressing her powerlessness. “You've spoken to them. Is there any way, diplomatic, material, any way to negotiate?”

“Madame President,” Tony said, voice softer, putting his hands up to catch her projected image in his palms, have her a little closer. “I've dedicated the last years to destroying everything that made me the Merchant of Death. Stark Industries has moved on completely from nuclear fission, for any purpose. And yes, Iron Man still helps in the fights against supervillains and invading aliens, but that's a different battlefield.

"Where Thor's on the same side, by the way. I mean, where's he, as Asgardian?”

She shook her head. “The agreement we have with him makes him a neutral party in any meeting between Asgard and Earth. We cannot even request his help as mediator. He'd be too... compromised.”

“Ah.” Stark rubbed a hand over a beard that was no longer sculpted, but roughly trimmed by his own impatient hand. He thought of Jane Foster's break-throughs in the physics behind inter-dimensional travel, the Swedish husband that had appeared out of nowhere, he'd met over coffee. Decided not to mention them. “Neither of the Asgardians I met were typical of their species. But I think... they're very human, just built on a larger scale.”

“What do you mean?” asked the sixty-year-old, as if she was going on six.

He considered a split second. Politician. Use analogy. “Asgard is to the galaxy what America is to Earth. The best I can explain it, madam, is that you're Israel, and America's just ordered you and the rest of the Middle East to start negotiating. Very likely they'll ask you to disarm.”

She inhaled. “An ultimatum, of course.” Bleak voice, but more controlled. She considered. “Worst case scenario?”

“Think Afghanistan. Iraq. Syria.” Tony Stark, former arms dealer, former keeper of privatised world peace, current super hero, looked upon a world leader with a smile that was more terrifying than a glare. “War. On our turf. With inferior weapons.”

“Even yours?” she wanted to know.

“By far, madam. We cannot win from any Asgardian warrior in a fight. Don't start one.”

She nodded. “I take that under advisement. And pass it on to our allies.”

Tony dropped his terrible smile and drew her close, so only his eyes would show in her screen, larger than life. “Madam President. Do humanity a favour, and inform our enemies as well.”

She agreed, and he closed the connection immediately.

“JARVIS.”

“Yes, Sir?”

He sighed, noticed the ache in his muscles from working two days straight had already eased. “I'm going to enjoy my last night of blissful ignorance. Don't disturb me until I can be fashionably late for that party.” He headed back to his workshop while the world's eyes slowly turned to Siberia.

It figured that the first time aliens provoked the countries of Earth into uniting to fight, to launch the proverbial thousand ships, it wasn't over anything epic. It was because no one wanted their toys taken away.


	3. King of Midgard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark arrives and confuses the masses.

Tony stared at the bird perched on a tree stump in the clearing where he'd landed. Even as most of his brain was celebrating the first parabola flight in his almost-not-a-suit-anymore, his mouth said, “You're kinda big for a crow.”

 

Then the bird wasn't. Instead, a girl with black hair and grey skin looked up at him. “King of Midgard, well met.”

 

“No, see, I'm just king of the mountain these days.” He sat down cross-legged in front of her, compelled. “What's a girl, or bird, like you doing in a place like this?” Though the grass was wet, and the air frigid, it didn't touch him. The environmental shield was holding, as intended.

 

“While my master sleeps, his thoughts still roam.” She mirrored his pose. Their surroundings seemed hushed, even taking into account that most animals fled when humans landed noisily.

 

“Right. So. The big Pop-eye inside is taking a nap, you were taking a walk and saw me coming? Are you the welcoming committee?” Tony tried to move his legs. Found he couldn't.

 

“When two branches knock together in the wind, they shed dead leaves. When a branch knocks against the trunk, the whole tree trembles.” She changed back into a bird. “A clever gardener must redirect it.”

 

“...Yeah. Sorry, that's just too cryptic.” A heavy blanket of air was lifted from his knees and he stood up, rubbing his thighs where light metal boots had pushed against it.

 

“Yes.” The bird looked up at him. Its voice reached his ears without its beak moving. He stared back as it half-opened one wing, scrabbling across the tree stump to recover its balance. “I am the welcoming committee. King Odin requests your presence within.”

 

“Good. Don't know why he didn't send an invitation in the first place, then.” Although, he considered, he probably wouldn't have come if he'd been invited. Crashing a party was much more satisfying. “You coming?” Although the dramatic surprise entrance was cancelled, it seemed. If Odin had sent a bird to escort him, which, yeah, even for him that was weird. Miracles of technology were more his speed than magic.

 

“I will.” It folded its wing.

 

“Then I can at least pretend to be a gentleman.” So he kneeled before it, extending an arm. It hopped across, then shuffled sideways until sleek feathers touched Tony's ear. “JARVIS, extend the bubble to our guest,” he muttered. Might as well try not to offend the god by offending his messenger.

 

“Done, Sir,” said the AI against his jawbone.

 

A beak brushed against the skin stretching across his implant. “There is another here, who has no body.”

 

“Yeah. Say hello to JARVIS. JARVIS, meet our mystery bird,” said Tony, squinting up at the sky. Stacks of clouds. Impending fog. Perhaps he'd get a dramatic entrance after all.

 

“I am named Huginn, I carry my master's thoughts, as my brother Muninn carries his memories.” When Tony started to walk, he felt a few strands of hair being pulled, sharp claws penetrate his clothing. So pirates must have shoulder pads, even space viking pirates, like bad eighties people. Or perhaps just armour. Something birds could sit on.

 

Hmm, idea. He thought of Kevlar and chain mail and shoulders, and skin hardened until the bird's claws couldn't pierce it anymore. JARVIS fired a few pings back through their connection to bring his focus back to the present. “Your subconcious was implementing untested designs again, Sir.”

 

“Right.” He shut it down. Humans were not made to have wireless connections. His brain would need training, and this was not the time to do it. “Huginn, good to meet you, although you seem to know who I am.”

 

“Yes, Tony Stark, Iron Man.” They were approaching the steps to the Convention Dome now. Here, the fog was out in full, pushing against an invisible barrier at the top, where a building had been, now stood a giant tent. It was a white dome made up of triangles, a set of heavy wooden doors set in the middle as an overly elaborate entrance.

 

He smiled. “Just a mechanic,” he told the bird.

 

Around the foot of the stairs were people bundled in heavy winter clothing, building temporary shelters out of vans, even a horse-and-cart or two, snowmobiles. The stairs itself were almost empty, except where people outside the barrier seemed to keep people just inside it, only dressed in light jackets or shirtsleeves, company.

 

He ascended the stairs unnoticed. Only one news crew at the top noticed him and the journalist had just enough time to stammer his name before he was beyond them, pushing the doors open easily. The security milling around the entrance looked just as shocked. “How?” one asked.

 

“We couldn't budge those when we tried with four strong men! It only opens on its own.” another exclaimed.

 

He ignored both in favour of a familiar redhead in catsuit. “Black Widow!”

 

“Bored living as a recluse before the first year was out, Stark?” But she granted him a glimpse of a smile before she nodded him to come over to the side. Hawkeye perched on a table, balancing an arrow on his nose. He snatched it away when he saw them approach.

 

“Decided to grace us with your presence, Moses?” he asked. “What are you bringing down from the mountain this time?”

 

Black Widow made a small noise in the back of her throat.

 

Stark subvocalised a message for JARVIS to text him. Barton pulled out his phone and grinned. “Sweet!”

 

“Yeah, you as good a tosser as you are a shooter, Barton?” He waggled his eyebrows. “In every sense of the word?” Hawkeye pulled a duh-face at him.

 

“Nothing for me?” asked the Black Widow, sidling up to him wide-eyed and plucking at his collar.

 

He did _not_ yelp or jump back. He just reclaimed his personal space. Honestly. “Don't _do_ that. You're creepy when you're being seductively innocent. You know too many ways to kill me.” She smirked at him, more honestly now. He admitted, “they're supposed to stun, not kill, so hopefully you can finally catch a Skrull and unleash your interrogation mojo on the sucker.”

 

She gave him a little nod. Then switched gears, her eyes going to a second set of doors, wood as well, with gold worked in. “Odin has all world leaders behind those doors, along with four of his own mages and a single escort for every leader. He granted them that much protection.”

 

Tony stroked his beard. “The president?”

 

Hawkeye snorted. “As fine as she can be. Cap was temporarily reassigned to the Secret Service so he could play bodyguard. He's tough enough to stand a chance.” He eyed Tony. “What about you?”

 

“What'd you think? Dramatic entrance, stir 'em up. Highlight of the show or distraction, that remains to be seen.”

 

Black Widow put a hand on his free shoulder. Strange, he thought, that no one else seemed to notice the giant black bird, yet avoided touching it. As if it could hear his thoughts, it stroked his hair with its beak. “Tony, anyone unauthorised drops dead, literally, the moment they touch those doors.”

 

“So don't go through the door, is what you're saying.” He pointed ahead of him, at a stretch of blank white polymer wall.

 

“We tried that.” She, in turn, pointed to the two bodies lying a bit further along, who looked as if they were sleeping but were, apparently, dead. “Don't, Tony, please. For once, we've been outmaneuvered.”

 

“Nope,” he said, twisted out of her grasp and approached the doors. “JARVIS. Gamma wave oscillation. Project forward three feet from my palm,” he muttered so only his AI heard.

 

He extended his arm and the doors...melted away where he touched it. “Magic Buster is proving effective against optical illusion, Sir. A force field remains. It seems to have the similar properties to an electric fence.”

 

“Well, the armour should be able to handle _that._ ” He put a hand on Huginn to make sure the bird was included in the protection. He had his fingers nipped in thanks. Then, with a great crackle, he walked into the room, raising his extended hand to wave at a speechless crowd. His inner showman revelled in the attention he'd long denied himself.

 

~'~

 

Loki wished he did not have to waste hours on seeming reasonable and benevolent, even if he could play the condescending monarch that dictated the terms. Mortals, though, had a million arguments that all amounted to the same plea: do not take away our tools of folly.

 

Infantile cockroaches.

 

The drudgery induced a stupor that made him grasp after one Odin's strategies: let them exhaust themselves. He had fought with Thor countless times before the throne, until he'd learned to control himself. Pointless to waste the energy.

 

He sat upon a conjured golden chair, staring at whomever was arguing hardest to at least keep the volume down. All these leaders had already promised to surrender their weapons. These were merely the death throes of their illusions of power.

 

His magic wavered, screeched before a predator and fled, a gap appearing in the doors. He rose from his throne, grasping Gungnir for support, as if he was an old man. The gap grew to the size of a large man, and a familiar figure stood before it. A raven on his shoulder.

 

No.

 

The predator stopped snapping and his magic sighed in relief, but remained where it was. The barrier he'd conjured held, based in Odin's magic as it was, rather than his own. Tony Stark would yet regret his attempt to invade. He watched the mortal advance. With a great crackle, the field was breached.

 

No.

 

The mortal stepped into the hall.

 

No.

 

Huginn sat on his shoulder, staring at Loki, through his illusion.

 

No.

 

“The day of reckoning has come, my son,” said Odin, through Huginn, to his ears alone.

 

No.

 

“Sailorman, thanks for the invite,” said the mortal to a speechless Loki. He gestured to Huginn. “Didn't know gods kept pets. Ow!” The raven bit his ear.

 

No.

 

Tony Stark sat down in a chair one of the leaders had vacated to stand over another as they argued. “Heard everyone's finally got rid of the weapons they can't use anyway. So. Let's talk power plants.”

 

No...what?

 

“Iron Man,” said Captain America. “Good you're here to help us.”

 

The mortal grinned. “Nah. I'm here to make some money.”

 

What?

 

“Hey, have you guys talked about disposing of nuclear waste yet?”

 

Silence.

 

Loki eyed the Man of Iron, who had not been seen on any battlefield in over a year, rumoured to have succumbed to melancholy after his last lover left him. Who had seized control of the room in under a minute. Who settled opposite Loki as if he was his equal.

 

Who had, for some reason, Odin's attention.

 

“What's next on the agenda, your intergalactic majesty?” Stark clapped his hands together, then expanded them, an optical illusion appearing between them, a blank square that soon filled with text and still images. He put it on the table as if it had substance. Swiped to have more text appear.

 

Stark thought he was Odin and seemed to be willing to negotiate. Never let it be said Loki could not turn a situation to his advantage. “Welcome, Leader of Midgard.”

 

Stark smirked. “That's what _she_ said.” He pointed at Huginn.

 

That was when the room exploded into an almighty din.

 


	4. Prince's Bride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will alternate POV. Warning: newlyweds.

Jane Foster was lying belly-down on their new shed, telling Thor that, no, really, there was no reason to come up and rescue her, the poor roof wouldn't be able to hold him and it was just a scare she had when the ladder fell down just as she pushed off to get up on the roof. “I just need to grab the keys, honey, the back door's open, but the gate is locked and the front door blew closed and the keys were still inside.”

 

Thor lit up. “Why did you not say so?” He scaled the back yard's six foot fence with an easy hop and held the keys up to her by the time she'd seated herself on the roof's edge.

 

She pointed a finger at him before accepting them. “Because sometimes, Thor, a girl wants to do things for herself and you were not supposed to be back from doing the groceries for another hour.” Nevertheless, she let herself fall into his upraised arms and accepted the kiss he smacked on her lips before he put her down.

 

“If you were not a strong and independent woman, you would not have enchanted me so, Jane Foster,” he told her softly. She granted him another kiss in thanks. “After all,” he added, “Few are worthy to be the consort of a prince of Asgard.”

 

“Don't spoil it.” She pulled back, only to see him smile. “Oh, you've been taking classes in teasing from Darcy, haven't you?”

 

He shrugged, following her back through the gate, around the house, to the front door, where their new chairs waited to be carried inside. “I am a student of Earth. It seems unwise to limit myself to one subject. Besides, she has recruited me in her quest to keep you from becoming too serious.”

 

She snorted. “We're on our _honeymoon_. I'm not so much serious as deliriously happy.” Two big hands grabbed her waist and turned her around. She was engulfed by a Thor who did his utmost to consume her.

 

Her phone rang.

 

“No!” She groaned. “I _told_ everyone I wouldn't be answering a call for anything other than dire emergencies.” But her warrior husband responded to phones as if they were war drums, and had already pulled himself together. So she pulled it from her pocket and when “The Mechanic” stared up at her, gulped. “Tony? What's wrong?”

 

“Sorry to disturb you lovebirds, but it seems like your father-in-law is on a mission.  On Earth. Eyes will be on you soon, if not already.” She hadn't heard him this serious since they'd first discussed their deal.

 

She looked up at Thor. “Right. Thanks for the heads-up.” Tony hung up without another word.

 

With a clack she put it down on the table standing in the dirt-packed bare front yard, among boxes and a mix of second-hand heavy wooden furniture that had appealed to Thor. She looked up at the house. Move in and make love. No science, no world, no worries. That was to have been their vacation. “Seems your dad's chosen Earth for his next campaign.” She rubbed hands over her eyes.

 

Thor touched her then, slid his hands over back and shoulders, combing through her hair, as much for her comfort as to ground himself. “That is... uncharacteristic,” he muttered. She looked up at him in askance. “I am his steward. He need not come to Midgard when I am here to represent him. By coming himself, he sets me aside.”

 

She pressed against him when big hands kept moving over her, hoping her touch would bring him peace. “He didn't send you this time, like he did when Loki escaped. You left.”

 

“It does not matter. A warrior of Asgard is never...” he hesitated, before continuing with a phrase he'd picked up from Steve, “off-duty. We have times of action, when we go out to fight, and times when we rest at home, defending it.” He clenched his arms around her. “I found succour here with you, a new home, but that does not change who I am.” His hands finally stopped, sheltering her skull and neck.

 

She nodded into his abs. “Right. But how does that mean you're his representative here? Especially if you left of your own accord after a... disagreement.” After he'd chosen her over his father, she didn't say, because though it warmed her heart, it tore his in two. “I mean, you roamed with a group of warriors most of the time, you weren't touring around as an ambassador.”

 

Bass laughter rumbled beneath her cheeks. “No. It would be more accurate to liken my father to Director Fury, a peacekeeper with his own domain, though his grasp reaches further. My mother his Maria Hill. I his Agent Coulson.” More chuckles entered the small dark world he'd created for her behind his hands when she cursed at the mention of the agent who had stolen her stuff. Who had arranged for her to be out of the picture the first time Thor returned to Earth. “Indeed. We were not always well received, either.”

 

She planted hands against him and leaned back to look up. “That's why you don't mind working with them.”

 

He nodded. “SHIELD is similar to what I know, in many ways, and my comrades honourable enough.”

 

“But... I mean, they're secret agents. What about all the conspiracies and the spying and the double-crossing?” She gesticulated when she couldn't exactly voice the distasteful cloud of rumours and facts that floated in her mind at the mention of SHIELD.

 

That brought out a boom of laughter. “Very like courtiers.” He looked down upon her. “Your refreshing honesty is part of your appeal, Jane Foster.”

 

She blushed, and poked him in the stomach. “You're not like that. How did you...?”

 

He frowned. “I had the master of manipulation on my side. Only when he was gone did I realise how much he had protected me. I quickly grew disenchanted with court politics after I was forced to endure them without his interference.” He quirked a smile. “And his commentary.”

 

Loki, another moratorium, at least until they had figured out their new lives. She closed her eyes. Enough. Time to return to the true issue at hand. “We'll have to make the choice now, if your father's here. Before he can stop us.” She took him by the hand and seated them on one of the couches.

 

“We? It is your life, Jane.” He stared out at the bare branches of the copse that surrounded their two-bedroom house. Shelter was ever so handy when her flying husband might need a place to land, or she needed some extra privacy for her classified projects. Still, Thor had muttered about security and cleared the trees immediately around their house. They'd be able to have a bonfire each night for the next four months with the wood he'd chopped.

 

She patted one of the white-knuckled fists sitting on his thighs. “I decide, but you do get a say.”

 

He sagged forward then, with a great whoof of air, unleashing so much tension that she worried over not having noticed it. “You _know._ I have no wish to lose you.”

 

“Right.” She touched her forehead to his cheek, picked up her phone and went inside, to the cellar that would be her lab-away-from-her-lab, because these thoughts required a sanctuary.

 

Two hours later, she had progressed to staring at a stretch of wall that seemed perfectly innocent. It wasn't.

 

 _Unworthy. A goat. A mortal woman. Unfit. Too stupid. She has no place here. She'll see a pediatrician before her PhD. She should do work more suitable to her gender._ She closed her eyes as the words of an immortal king ran together with those of mortal teachers and peers. Female scientists in general were not rare anymore, but they were in astrophysics, especially when she'd been a student. She wasn't a trailblazer, but she was close. As a result, she'd become as proud of being a woman as of being a scientist. Whenever she was stopped by a glass ceiling, she smashed it.

 

After her disastrous visit to Asgard, she came away with admiration for its now-deceased queen and a new source of proud defiance, her mortality. She loved her man, and no society looking down on what they thought was a talking animal would stop her.

 

If she did this, she would lose that part of her. Still a woman, still a scientist, but she'd be more like _them._ Even if it wasn't by means of a golden apple.

 

On the other hand, she would leave Thor within a human lifetime if she didn't do this. The blink of an eye, for him. Was that worth it?

 

But God, she'd hoped to have some time to process. She'd already moved house and gotten married. She'd hoped to postpone other big changes. She sighed. If Odin's gaze was on Earth, chances were he'd retrieve the son that had married a mortal and keep him away until she died. Before they saw him next, she would have to make herself invulnerable.

 

Her fingers were already pressing the button for Darcy. She did not have to do this alone. “Yeah?” said a voice on the other side of the line.

 

“I want to become an immortal, but mortal.” It sounded even more insane out loud.

 

It was quiet for a moment on the other side of the line. “You mean... you want to be both?” Then, in a theatrical whisper. “I thought you guys were gonna _wait,_ and be newlyweds before you take over the galaxy, or whatever.”

 

Jane giggled. “That's _not_ what we're planning.”

 

“It so totally is, with your evil schemes and Stark's evil schemes and Thor totally having the right physique for a poster boy for your evil schemes...” Darcy moaned into the phone. “I would so totally worship _that.”_ Background noise, her boyfriend-and-assistant was there. “So tell me, what's the rush?”

 

“Daddy dearest is on Earth.” She put her head in her hands. “Gotta be ready.”

 

“You haven't even started building your machine. It's all still blueprints.” Jane closed her eyes and mentally thanked Stark for giving them secure phones, because Darcy was not good at keeping secrets in a conversation.

 

“I mean me. I have to be ready. Shed my goat-ness.” She walked towards the wall, felt the unspoken choice crystallise inside her. Held still so the vault's security AI – only Stark would make a glorified scanner intelligent – could identify her.

 

“You're not a goat!”

 

“I mean, in their eyes.” Brainwave scan, breath composition scan, heartbeat recorded, full body scan.

 

“You'll still be _Jane_ , if you do this, unless you have a weak mind. Thor said your sense of self is strong enough.”

 

“Yes.” She stepped into what amounted to a panic room fitted with a library wall to store her notebooks and a back-up server for her work.

 

“So...what's the problem?” Darcy asked over a now-staticky line

 

“It feels like conforming, giving in,” she admitted. She stepped up to the desk that sat opposite a queen-sized bed, cabinets filling three walls. All creams and browns. In the desk sat a safe. She placed her hand on the blank surface and it sank in a little.

 

“Well, think of it as... stealing their thunder.”

 

“Darcy!” She opened the door, extracted ten liquid capsules out of forty.

 

“After all, you've already got their Thunder _er”_

 

“That's an awful pun!” She gazed at her cupped palm, the Elixir lying there as if she was ready to overdose on painkillers. Nanotechnology, now at your local drug store. She giggled.

 

“But true, and it made you laugh. So?” Because Darcy knew her, knew she needed someone to listen and manage her time. Not someone to make her decisions or do her science.

 

“Yeah,” she said quietly, “yeah,” and tossed them back one by one, dry-swallowing. “Talk to you tomorrow,” she said, hung up on Darcy mid-screech, lay back on the bed.

 

Screamed.

 

Fainted.

 

Was enveloped in a cocoon.

 

Because this was Extremis, as re-imagined by Tony Stark. Extremis Elixir, which would give her a degree of invulnerability, longevity and slow her aging. An improvement on Extremis Eraser, which had turned Pepper Potts back into a human, if an invulnerable one that would live to a very healthy old age.

 

She never noticed Thor racing down the stairs and into the open vault, closing it from inside.

 

How he stood, unmoving, above her, neither sleeping nor eating, until she was released the next day.

 

She woke up aching all over, energised.

 

“Jane.”

 

She gazed up at him. “We'll have to redo our vows.”

 

“What?” He squelched his way through the cocoon that was now consuming itself and the sheets in a slimy mess. Sat down beside her.

 

“Well, 's not like death is going to part us anytime soon.” She sat up, pausing when her husband grasped her hand and kissed it, tears running out of smiling eyes into a blonde beard.

 

“Thank you, my dear Jane, thank you.”

 


End file.
